


don't need to be related to relate

by catgod (yoonmims)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Time Skip, bokuaka are basically hinatas dads, sometimes family is 2 dads their bird son and bird sons gremlin bf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25956055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoonmims/pseuds/catgod
Summary: It’s less than twenty-four hours later that Bokuto stands in their kitchen, face aghast, and says: “So. I was wrong. Hinata definitely has a crush on him. But it’s worse than we thought.”Looking away from the tea he’s brewing, Keiji replies. “Oh?”Raising his head slowly, Bokuto meets Keiji’s eyes with deathly calm. “I think Atsumu likes him back.”“Oh. Oh, no.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 108
Kudos: 1358





	don't need to be related to relate

**Author's Note:**

> BOKUAKA ACCIDENTAL DADS BOKUAKA ACCIDENTAL DADS
> 
> title from rina sawayama's 'chosen family'

As much as Bokuto and Keiji had tried to keep up with Hinata’s life post-high school, it had been hard. The age differences didn’t help; while Hinata was battling it out at his last Nationals in his final year of high school, Keiji was struggling through his first year of a literature degree at university, and Bokuto was busy thriving in the pro-volleyball leagues.

Once Hinata disappeared off to Brazil to learn beach volleyball, staying in contact got even harder, due in part to the time zone differences, but mostly down to the natural divergence of their lives paths. Keiji had even struggled to stay in contact with Bokuto during that time, bogged down with assignment after assignment, but sheer force of will had kept a tenuous bond between the two of them that, years later, had managed to flourish into something beyond the friendship they’d had in high school.

By now, Keiji is used to Bokuto yelling from across their apartment and then almost immediately bursting into the living room to show him something on the screen of his phone, usually a funny meme from Konoha or one of the others in their group chat, or a picture Hinata had posted on his instagram of him exploring everything Rio de Janeiro had to offer.

So when he hears that first _"_ _Akaashi!”_ echoing throughout the apartment, Keiji just closes the book he was reading and sets it aside on the coffee table, just in time for Bokuto to come bursting into the room. His hair is wet and deflated from its normal owl-like styling, lying flat against his head and dripping water down his neck. There’s a towel slung over his shoulder, and another around his waist, full bare chest on display. He’s clearly just out of his shower, and Keiji laments yet again Bokuto’s inability to dry his hair properly. _It dries by itself,_ he insists every time Keiji brings it up. _Why waste time drying it now if it’ll dry itself anyway?_ Keiji sighs internally at the thought. “Hey, hey, Keiji, look at this!”

There’s a phone screen waved under his nose, and Keiji grabs Bokuto’s hand to steady it. It’s a text conversation, with Hinata it looks like. “What am I looking at here?” he says.

Bokuto wriggles closer, practically sitting atop Keiji’s lap and dripping water everywhere. “Hinata! He’s coming back to Japan, and just _look!”_

At the top of the screen, the previous conversation between Bokuto and Hinata can just be seen (lots of yelling and caps lock and key smashes that make Keiji wince to even read), but the majority of the screen is taken up with a long message by Hinata, with a surprising lack of keyboard smashes (but still far too many exclamation marks for Keiji’s liking).

It reads:

_Bokuto-san!_

_It feels like forever since we last spoke  
_ _I hope that u and Akaashi-san r doing  
_ _well! :D I wanted to ask a favour from u  
_ _2 if its not too much… im coming back  
_ _to japan this week (exciting i kno!!!! I  
_ _cant wait to be back but im gna miss  
_ _brazil so badddd ahh ;-;) im planning  
_ _on attending the msby black jackals  
_ _tryouts, so i was wondering if u and  
_ _akaashi-san had any space on ur  
_ _sofa for me to crash for a few days?  
_ _we can make it like a sleepover!!! itll  
_ _be fun!!!!! and i promise i wont distract  
_ _akaashi-san from his work too much and  
_ _keep u up late :)) let me know if u can! Ill  
_ _be back in a few weeks time, cant wait 2  
_ _see u !!!!! <3 <3 <3 _

Keiji stares a little longer, before turning to meet Bokuto’s wide, excited eyes. “Hinata’s trying out for the Black Jackals?”

“Yes! I already told him that he’s more than welcome to come and crash on our guest futon. Man, I’m so excited to see him. It’s been, what, five years?”

“Four,” Keiji corrects. “You saw him when Fukurodani went to Nationals when I was Captain. Remember?” Karasuno had shone just as bright that year, even though they’d only made it once to the National stage.

Bokuto hums, considering, and then brightens. “Ah, yeah! I remember now! Because you looked really cool and confident as Captain, and I remember that I really wanted to kiss you, but I couldn’t back then.”

Red faced with flustered embarrassment, Keiji makes a small noise in the back of his throat. His head slumps forward on Bokuto’s shoulder, hiding his embarrassment and breathing in Bokuto’s familiar, comforting scent. “Koutarou…”

“What? It’s true! I remember it specifically because you were directing one of the first years who was nervous, and whatever you said made them look at you like you were the best thing ever, and I remember thinking that _wow, is that what I look like when I look at Akaashi too?_ Captaincy really suited you, Keiji!”

“It suited you as well, Koutarou.”

“I like to think being the ace on a Division 1 V.League team suits me pretty well, too”

“It does,” Keiji admits. “You look very impressive when you’re playing. Though right now, I think the wet hair ruins the effect.” Bokuto slumps slightly. “What sort of impression would it make on Hinata, if you had a cold when he arrives because you didn’t dry your hair properly? Here, give me that.”

Keiji takes the towel slung over Bokuto’s shoulder, and then shuffles them so that Bokuto is sat between his legs, back to Keiji’s chest. Doing his best to ignore the way the water droplets trickle down the bare expanse of Bokuto’s back, muscles shifting as he wriggles, Keiji puts the towel on Bokuto’s wet hair. “Next time, dry it properly,” he chides as he starts to rub, but there’s no bite behind his words and Bokuto knows it.

“But you dry it so well,” Bokuto whines, and then leans his head back until it’s almost in Keiji’s lap, grinning up at him. “Besides, you like drying my hair for me.” Keiji can’t even respond, because it’s true, and Bokuto knows it. He loves the casual intimacy to it, loves being able to do all the things he’d desperately wanted to do back in high school but didn’t have the courage to do without upsetting the fragile balance of their friendship.

He settles for poking Bokuto in the forehead. “Do you want me to dry it or not? Sit up.” But his words are too fond, and Bokuto’s smile only widens. He sits up nonetheless, allowing Keiji to keep gently rubbing the towel over the damp strands of his hand, letting out contented hooting sounds as he relaxes.

“We’ll have to cook something nice for Hinata when he comes round.” Keiji breaks the silence after a while, setting the towel aside and running his own gentle fingers through the now-dry strands of Bokuto’s hair. “Any ideas? You probably know what he likes better than I do.”

Bokuto immediately brings a stream of words, suggestion after suggestion, recommending every single food he’s ever seen Hinata eat, or heard Hinata mention he likes, or even just thinks that Hinata would like. Keiji allows himself to settle comfortably, an indulgent smile on his lips as he listens to Bokuto talk, familiar warmth cosied up against him.

* * *

Hinata is different. That’s the first thought that both Bokuto and Keiji have upon seeing their younger friend again. He’s different on a superficial level, that’s clearly evident. A few centimetres taller, far more tanned from his time in Brazil, and hair cropped shorter than it had been during his time in school. But he carries himself differently too. He’s still the same over-excitable, friendly boy he had been at age fifteen, but there’s a confidence and assurance to him now, and his excitement and volume have (thankfully) toned down marginally.

“Akaashi-san! Bokuto-san!” Keiji soon realises that Hinata is also made of _far_ more muscle than he was at age fifteen, letting out an _oof_ as Hinata slams into him, hugging both of them tightly. “I’ve missed seeing you!”

“I missed you too, Hinata!” Bokuto booms, picking up Hinata to spin him around in a dramatic reunion hug that has several people at the train station staring in their direction. “Have you got everything? Keiji parked around the corner.”

Hinata happily bounces alongside the both of them, nattering away about Rio and his beach coach, and his partner Heitor and his wife Nice, until Keiji feels as if he’s caught up on the entire last two years of his life in half an hour. In return, Bokuto regales Hinata with tales about his life, allowing Keiji to butt in with his own stories and corrections every now and then.

He can see the way Hinata sneaks glances between the two of them when he thinks they aren’t paying attention, fond smile on his lips. Unlike the rest of their friends who’ve had to put up with their disgusting married-couple lifestyle for years, this is Hinata’s first time seeing a Bokuto and Keiji who aren’t just friends, or ace and setter, or captain and vice captain, but partners.

Though, Keiji notes as they lead Hinata into the apartment, Bokuto doing the grand tour while Keiji puts Hinata’s bags away safely, Hinata fits into the dynamic between the two of them well. The three of them had gotten along well in school, but never been particularly close (Keiji had only had the energy for one Bokuto-type friend, thank you). Now, it’s as if Hinata isn’t an old acquaintance slash friend they’re reconnecting with, but family returning home. It’s comfortable. Familiar. He and Bokuto already have a well-established dynamic and lifestyle, but Hinata slips into it so seamlessly, already offering to help cook dinner not even five minutes into being in their apartment.

They don’t stay up too late the first night that Hinata is staying with them, all of them in agreement that getting a good night's sleep before try-outs is important. Hinata doesn’t seem nervous, at least not in the same way he used to back in high school, all shivering and stomach issues and pure terror painted all over his face. He bids Keiji and Bokuto a good night with a small smile, sat on his futon in the living room.

He must be more changed than previously thought, Keiji muses as he settles into bed beside Bokuto, letting his boyfriend wrap his arms around his waist. Not even a trace of nerves. There’s something like pride stirring inside his gut, proud fondness like a parents at seeing how much Hinata has grown and matured.

In the middle of the night, he awakens needing a glass of water. After five minutes, he manages to carefully extricate himself from Bokuto’s arms and pad out to the kitchen. There’s a light on in the living room as he passes, and Keiji pokes his head in.

It’s late, but Hinata is still awake, sitting on his futon with knees pulled up tight to his chest. It doesn’t look as if he’s slept yet, eyes staring into nothing. Ah. So he was nervous after all. Keiji continues his route to the kitchen, pulling two glasses from the cupboard to fill with water, and then returns to the living room.

Hinata startles when he enters. “Here,” Keiji says, passing him the cold glass of water. “Nervous about try-outs?”

Nodding his head, Hinata sips at the water. “Thank you, Akaashi-san! And yeah, it’s… it’s scary, trying out for a pro team. I’m not worried about it, but it’s still a big deal! I want to do my best!”

Keiji hums. He sits down on the edge of the sofa, knowing that this will probably take a while. “That’s understandable. You’ve worked hard to get where you are, and now you want to overcome this final hurdle in order to enjoy the fruits of your labour.”

“Yeah! It’s one final hurdle, but undoubtedly…”

Keiji does not get to sleep until two a.m.

But it’s worth it, in the end, to see the overjoyed look on both Bokuto and Hinata’s faces after try-outs that day, knowing that Hinata had smashed it. It’s worth it to hear Bokuto bragging about Hinata for days, worth it when they see the shock and happiness on Hinata’s face when he hears he’s been accepted onto the Black Jackals team.

_I can’t believe I’ve become a proud father at such a young age,_ Keiji laments as Bokuto squishes Hinata between the two of them in a hug, bright ginger hair tickling at his chin as he meets Bokuto’s smiling eyes over Hinata’s head. It’s not so bad, really.

* * *

“Y’know,” Bokuto says, words garbled. He’s got a toothbrush in his mouth, and foamy toothpaste at the corner of his mouth. It’s a miracle that he hasn’t spat any of it everywhere yet. “Atsumu has really changed since Hinata joined the team, aha!”

Keiji finishes rinsing the cleanser off his face, standing up to check for any remaining foam on his face in the mirror. “Onigiri Miya-san’s brother? The one who was rude to you when you both joined the team?” No, Keiji is not petty. No, he does not hold grudges.

“Yeah, him!” Bokuto spits out his toothpaste. “He wasn’t that bad before, but now he’s all...” - Bokuto waves a hand around, sending droplets of water flying from his toothbrush - “Mushy! That’s the word. Around the rest of us, it’s all ‘ _Hey, why didn’t ya slam that ball through the block, I know you can do it so why didn’t ya_ ?’. But then with Hinata, he’s like ‘ _Oh, Shouyou-kun, nice receive! Nice hit, Shouyou-kun!_ ’. And he’s being nicer to the rest of us too! I think it’s because he doesn’t want Hinata to see what a bastard he can be, haha!” 

Bokuto pitches his voice lower in an imitation of Miya Atsumu’s, doing his best botched attempt at Kansai-ben. It’s bad, but it gets the point across. “It’s good that Hinata fits so well into the team,” Keiji replies. “And good that Miya-san has learnt some manners.”

The laugh that Bokuto lets out has a small smile curving at Keiji’s lips. It’s one that says he knows exactly how petty Keiji can be, even if he would never admit to it out loud. “Well, yeah,” he says. He holds out a hand and Keiji places the moisturiser in it. “Everyone on the team loves Hinata! I’m still his favourite though, as I should be.”

“Better watch out,” Keiji says, dabbing moisturiser onto his face. His hair is pulled off his face with a fluffy headband, part of a two-part set of owl headbands that he shares with Bokuto (who is also wearing his). “Seems like Miya-san might take your spot, if he keeps complimenting Hinata like that.”

The resulting squawk from Bokuto is indignant. “What? No! Hinata is my disciple, my protege! Atsumu can’t usurp me! Hinata comes round our house for dinner every week. He texts me photos of all the unusual birds he sees! You share yoga tips with him, Keiji, you can’t just let Atsumu usurp us so easily.”

“Oh, I’m in this ranking too?”

“We both are!” Bokuto insists. There’s a spot next to his eyebrow that he’d missed when rubbing in his moisturiser, a clump of white sitting stark against his tan skin. Keiji reaches out to get it for him. “We’re a set! We’ve known Hinata since he was just _this_ tall,-” 

“I think you’re over exaggerating how short Hinata was, Koutarou.”

“-and I refuse to let Miya Atsumu come in and woo Hinata away from us!” Bokuto’s phone pings (he has post alerts set for all his friends on Instagram). He picks it up to check, and then lets out a devastated wail. “It’s already begun! Keiji, he’s stealing Hinata away from us! He’s going to taint him, we can’t let this happen.”

“Koutarou, he’s not stealing Hinata away, and he’s not going to corru-” Keiji stares at the photo Bokuto shoves in front of him, face falling. Atsumu has got his arm around Hinata, pulling him in close as they both stick their tongues out and attempt a flirty wink at the camera (Atsumu with more success than Hinata, who just looks adorable). “What has he done to Hinata? We can’t let him continue this,” Keiji says. 

“This is like that bastard Oikawa all over again,” Bokuto says, fists clenched. “Hinata, why is your taste in men…like that?”

* * *

Weekly dinners at Bokuto and Keiji’s apartment with Hinata have become a regular thing since Hinata’s return from Brazil, a familiar routine that the three of them have fallen into. Every Thursday evening, Hinata comes back with Bokuto from practice to his place, and they spent the evening relaxing and chatting and catching up. Cooking responsibilities are divided equally between the three of them.

Keiji, despite appearances, is undoubtedly the weakest cooker of the three of them. He’s not bad by any stretch, but his cooking is standard, some may even say… bland. Hinata is a good cook, and with the wealth of recipes he’d picked up in Brazil, he always brings something new, exciting and delicious to their table. Bokuto is, as always, a bit of a wild card. 

Objectively, Bokuto’s cooking is amazing. He’s got a natural gift for it, and an incredible innate sense of what flavours and spices go well together, so even when he freewheels it and comes up with an entirely new dish, it’s still good. His _sukiyaki_ was so good that Fukunaga from Nekoma had once called almost in tears, demanding to know what he did to make it taste so good. The downside to this, however, is that sometimes his single-minded focus takes over, and any dish that requires attention on more than three pans at once occasionally ends in complete disaster. 

It’s Hinata’s turn to cook this week, and he’d turned up with arms full of groceries and a bright smile, declaring that he was going to make _fejioada_ for them this week. Keiji still had some of Udai’s manuscripts to mark and edit, so he’d stayed locked inside his office, leaving Bokuto and Hinata alone in the kitchen to cook and chatter away, booming voices singing along to the radio filtering through the cracked open office door.

The meal had been delicious, strong-flavoured and the perfect combination of meatiness and saltiness and a bit spicy, served with garlic rice and sauteed greens and other foods that Keiji couldn’t remember the names of. Bokuto and Hinata both eat like they’re starving, shoveling the food down as if it’ll disappear if they don’t eat it quick enough.

Around mouthfuls of food, they regale Keiji with tales of today’s practice, in which Meian had apparently almost died (not Atsumu’s fault, for once), Sakusa had nearly committed murder (Atsumu’s fault), and Hinata had jumped face first into the net (arguably not Atsumu’s fault, but Keiji will blame it on him anyway).

Throughout the conversation, Keiji starts to notice something. 

“... and then Atsumu-san…”

“Atsumu-san’s spikes are so perfect!”

“...Atsumu-san…”

An inkling of something niggles at him.

“Koutarou,” he brings up cautiously, later that evening after Hinata has left and all the dishes have been washed up, left to dry on the rack. “Do you think that Hinata might like Miya?”

“Like him?” Bokuto pauses in pulling off his shirt. “I mean, sure, he’s said he likes him lots. ‘ _Your tosses are the bestest ever, Atsumu-san_ ’ and all.”

“I mean, romantically.”

“What?” Bokuto shoots him a horrified look, and Keiji just raises his eyebrows in response. _Well?_ “No way! I’d totally have noticed if he were. I spend all day every day with the both of them, there’s no way I could miss it.”

“If you’re sure,” Keiji concedes. “You know them both better than me.”

Bokuto lies down next to him, dragging the covers over the both of them. _Well_ , Keiji thinks. _If Bokuto says it’s not true, then perhaps I was just misinterpreting it. Hinata is a very friendly, enthusiastic person, it’s not unusual for him to gush about others._

It’s less than twenty-four hours later that Bokuto stands in their kitchen, face aghast, and says: “So. I was wrong. He definitely has a crush on him. But it’s worse than we thought.”

Looking away from the tea he’s brewing, Keiji replies. “Oh?”

Raising his head slowly, Bokuto meets Keiji’s eyes with deathly calm. “I think Atsumu likes him back.”

“ _Oh_. Oh, no.”

* * *

The MSBY Black Jackals vs. Schweiden Adlers match is one for the history books, Keiji decides, but the afterparty following it is definitely _not_. Barely an hour in and the amounts of alcohol being consumed are worrying. Sakusa seems to have had the right idea, wedging himself in a far, far corner away from the main noise and party. Hinata, seated by his side but a respectable metre or so away, seems to act as a human shield, artfully fielding away anyone too drunk or touchy, sparing them Sakusa’s wrath. 

Unfortunately for Sakusa, having Hinata as a bodyguard also means getting Atsumu in a buy-one-get-one-free deal, since he’s surgically attached to Hinata’s hip. Bokuto and Keiji had both spent an entire evening lamenting how they hadn’t noticed it earlier, when the two of them are so absolutely sickeningly into each other.

They’re in their own little world, Atsumu talking and Hinata listening attentively, or Hinata talking while Atsumu watches, lovestruck. Sakusa looks like he’s about to throw up when Atsumu throws an arm around Hinata’s shoulder and they rejoin the rest of the group's conversation. It’s the equivalent of a dog pissing on a lamppost to mark its territory, Keiji realises, as he sees Kageyama’s eyes linger a second too long on Hinata tucked under Atsumu’s arm. Not that he needs to, given that there’s nothing but extremely close friendship between Kageyama and Hinata, and anyone with working eyes and a brain could see how smitten Hinata is for the setter.

“Ya see it too, huh?” Keiji jolts at the sound of that distinctive kansai-ben, and the familiar face that greets him, but it’s the hair that gives the speaker away. Miya Osamu, from Onigiri Miya. He’s gesturing at Atsumu and Hinata with the bottle of Asahi clutched in his hand, grim smile on his face.

“I think they’re the only ones that haven’t yet,” Keiji responds. He’s fond of Osamu, having spoken to him enough times at events like this, or whenever he stops by Onigiri Miya on days he has to go into the office or meet with Udai. 

Osamu lets out an irritated _tch_ . “Wish that the two of them would get their heads out their asses. ‘Tsumu comes round every other week and just sits in Onigiri Miya _pining_. He’s scaring away actual paying customers. Even Kita-san’s started complaining about how all he does is talk about how wonderful Shouyou-kun is. No offense to him, he’s lovely, but I don’t think I can put up with ‘Tsumu’s whining about how Shouyou-kun is too good for him for another month longer.”

“No offence taken,” Keiji responds, slightly bemused. He has no idea who Kita-san is. “Believe me, I’ve heard enough gushing about your brother to last me a lifetime.”

Osamu’s expression morphs into something calculated, something smug, and it makes him look more like Atsumu. “Say,” he says, “how would you and Bokuto-san over there feel about helping me get those two together? I think I can speak for everyone on the team when I say we’d be doing a good thing.”

As he speaks, Atsumu feeds Hinata a piece of squid tempura, and Keiji sees half the table close their eyes in a desperate plea to whatever gods are out there for the both of them to _please stop._ Sakusa looks like he’s about to throw up, and Meian is rubbing his temples. “I’d be interested,” Keiji says. “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

“This is fun,” Hinata says, spinning himself around and around on the stool in Bokuto and Keiji’s kitchen. “I haven’t had a movie night in ages! Not since the last one at Wan-san’s, but that didn’t go so well.”

Keiji opens his mouth to ask what went wrong, but a hand laid on his arm by Bokuto stops him. _Don’t ask,_ his eyes say, pleading. _You don’t want to know._ He decides not to ask.

“We’ll have to organise some more team evenings,” Bokuto agrees. “That time we played Monopoly was really fun.”

Keiji has distinct memories of the MSBY BJ Twitter account having to issue a formal apology for the members activities after that particular game night, but he says nothing. Hinata nods in agreement, looking slightly green in the face as he spins. “Yeah! It was super funny when everyone went bankrupt, and we all had to start bidding off items of clothing to afford rent. Oh, oh, and when Sakusa-san put Atsumu-san in that wrestling hold!”

“Or when Meian got drunk and started crying about how he loved his wife!”

There’s a knock at the door before Hinata and Bokuto can carry on regaling stories of their teammates' most embarrassing moments. It’s a shame, Keiji greatly enjoys hearing about people doing stupid shit, but since he’d never admit it people rarely ever tell him. “I’ll get it!” Hinata says, hopping off his stool. He wobbles slightly, still dizzy, and then staggers his way into the hallway. There’s the sound of the door opening, and Hinata’s usual friendly greetings.

Bokuto sidles closer, tucking his head over Keiji’s shoulder and slipping his hands into the front pockets of Keiji’s jeans. “Are we sure this will work?” he whispers. 

“Osamu seemed confident,” Keiji replies, trying not to chop off his fingers as Bokuto blows air onto his neck.

“Okay but, why did we have to do it here? What if our plan works too well, and our place gets forever tainted by… Atsumu.”

Keiji rolls his eyes and sets the knife down. “Koutarou. Miya Atsumu and Hinata aren’t going to get it on in our apartment.”

“But what if they do?”

“Hinata respects us far too much for that. We’re basically his parents.”

Both of them stare at each other wide-eyed, the reality of what Keiji had just said setting in. “Oh my god,” Bokuto says. “Keiji. We’re his parents. I’m a father?”

“Yo!” Osamu says, stepping into the kitchen. He holds up a white plastic bag. “ I brought food. Atsumu and Shouyou-kun went through to the living room.” He must sense the weird air in the room because he pauses, looking between the two of them and the shock evident on their faces. Bokuto’s hands are still in Keiji’s jeans. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing,” Keiji blurts.

“I’m a father,” Bokuto says.

“I’m not even going to begin unpacking that,” Osamu says, setting his bag down. “In fact, I think I’d rather go and third-wheel Atsumu and Shouyou-kun than stay here and watch you two communicate silently. See ya!”

Neither Bokuto or Keiji move, even after Osamu is long gone. Keiji’s brain is still processing, and so is Bokuto’s. “I can’t believe we didn’t realise,” Keiji says eventually. “It was so obvious. He comes round for dinner once a week.”

“He asked me for help shopping for new knee-pads.”

“I shared my yoga tips with him.”

“He waters our plants for us when we forget.”

“We asked him about his allergies when we discussed getting a dog.”

“He’s the only one who eats those pudding cups in the fridge,” Bokuto points out. “Yet we still buy them every week.”

“And he eats them. Because he always comes round here.”

There’s the sound of muffled yelling from the living room that sounds like the Miya twins, undoubtedly scrapping like cats again while Hinata eggs them on. They should probably check on that before something gets broken. Keiji says as much, and Bokuto reluctantly removes his hands from Keiji’s pockets. Placing a gentle kiss on Bokuto’s lips, Keiji takes his hands and leads him into the living room. His hands are still warm. 

The living room is still in one piece when they arrive, but Hinata is sitting atop the sofa cushions and neither Osamu or Atsumu are looking at each other. Keiji wonders if this is what children's playdates are like, and Bokuto questions when they became fathers to not one, but three children. 

“I set the TV up,” Hinata says helpfully. “What are we watching?”

“ _The Ring_ ,” Bokuto proclaims proudly. Keiji relishes in how Atsumu’s face drops, fear painted in his eyes.

Hinata tilts his head to one side. “Isn’t that a horror movie? I thought you weren’t good with horror, Bokuto-san.”

Keiji freezes. They’re about to be caught out before their plan can even begin. Damnit, if they don’t watch _The Ring_ then there’s no way to get Atsumu and Hinata to cuddle before they put on a sappy romance movie afterwards and make them both aware of how disgustingly into each other they both are. Which means that-

“Exposure therapy,” Bokuto blurts out quickly. “I’m hoping if I get better at watching them, Kuroo will stop pranking me with horror jumpscares.”

Hinata nods sagely. “How wise.” Keiji and Osamu let out matching sighs of relief. Atsumu looks ready to pass on.

Bokuto pulls the blinds shut and Osamu sets the DVD up, and then they all settle down to watch. Within the first hour, Keiji already regrets the choices and decisions he made that led him to this point. Bokuto somehow has all of his limbs completely wrapped around him, one hand clutching Keiji’s hair in a vice grip, and the other digging talons into his thighs. Osamu looks like he’s also reevaluating his life choices, sitting all alone by himself across the room.

_Are we really so committed to Hinata’s happiness and love life,_ Keiji muses, _that we would willingly sit through a horror movie that none of us enjoy?_

Casting a glance over at Atsumu and Hinata, Keiji decides that yes, clearly they are. Atsumu, all over six feet of him, has squished himself into Hinata’s lap, and the younger man is combing fingers through that mop of dyed hair in slow, soothing motions, whispering into Atsumu’s ear as he does so. Whatever he’s saying must be working, because Atsumu lets out a small laugh even as the creepy ring girl crawls through the TV. Or something like that. Keiji stopped watching the screen about half an hour in. He’s even worse with horror than Bokuto is, but he’s got a reputation for being unphasable and stoic that he needs to uphold.

Both he and Bokuto breathe a sigh of relief when the ending credits roll. Neither of them will be sleeping tonight, that’s for sure.

“Time for something light-hearted, I think!” Osamu says, sliding the next DVD into the player. Atsumu’s face scrunches up in annoyance when the opening starts up, cheesy high-pitched pop music playing through the speakers, and the glare he gives Osamu shows that he’s clearly realised exactly what his brother is up to.

But it’s not like he can do anything about it, with a lapful of Hinata. It’s a good thing too, because with Bokuto wrapped around him it’s not as if Keiji could help break them apart if they started fighting. In Atsumu’s lap, Hinata perks up at the sound of the music. “Oh, I love this movie!” he says, eyes all sunshine and sugar and everything sweet in the world. Atsumu practically melts. Even Keiji feels himself soften.

Bokuto fetches a blanket to pull over the both of them once the movie starts, allowing Keiji to disentangle from the web of his limbs and tuck Bokuto against his side, head on his shoulder. The movie is cheesy, and stereotypical, and sappy, but Keiji finds he doesn’t mind it too much. It’s some high school romance one, and it sends pangs of nostalgia through Keiji’s heart, thinking back on days spent in the gyms at Fukurodani, pining after an ace who burned brighter than the sun.

The second lead of the movie gives the girl he loves his second button when they graduate, and Keiji watches with disinterested eyes as she cries and monologues a heartfelt emotional crisis. It’s so obvious that she’s going to end up with the main lead, he can’t even pretend to feel pity for the second lead who’s trying so hard to win the affections of a girl already clearly smitten with someone else.

Beside him, Bokuto sniffs. “I put my second button under the gym.”

“As did I,” Keiji says. 

“We obviously weren’t fitting to be the protagonists in a high school romance,” Bokuto replies. _No,_ Keiji agrees internally, _years of quietly pining and enjoying the light of your presence in silence while never admitting my true emotions don’t exactly make for a riveting plot._

“That’s okay,” he says outloud. “I quite like the way things turned out for us anyway. Stereotypical shoujo-manga style high school romances are overrated anyway.”

Bokuto presses a kiss to Keiji’s cheek, just at the corner of his mouth. “Hm, you’re right. Sports manga with a side of romance is better.”

They must both doze off sometime during the movie, despite the lingering adrenaline from the horror movie, because Keiji’s woken up by a gentle finger prodding his shoulder. There’s a heavy weight crushing his other side - Bokuto, fast asleep with his face smushed into the crook of Keiji’s neck, and hugging his waist tightly. Osamu, who poked him awake, gestures over at the other side of the sofa.

Atsumu is still awake over there, shooting Keiji and Osamu wide-eyed, panicking looks. “Help,” he mouths. A smirk curls it’s way onto Keiji’s lips. Behind him, Osamu pulls out his phone.

Somehow, Atsumu and Hinata had migrated through the movie, and now Hinata is sleeping soundly on Atsumu’s chest, pinning him to the seat cushions. There’s one hand loosely gripping the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt, and a thin line of drool dribbling from Hinata’s open mouth onto the collar of Atsumu’s shirt. He looks so small and comfortable there, like a baby rabbit napping on a fox’s flank. Keiji promised himself he would never think anything good about Miya Atsumu, but just for Hinata he will allow himself to think that they look cute.

“Leave him there,” Keiji says to Osamu. Atsumu lets out a muffled squeak. “They can sleep over. You should head back home, Osamu.”

Osamu salutes. “Will do! Let me know how those two get on. Sleep soundly, ‘Tsumu,” he calls over to his brother, sticking his tongue out when Atsumu flips him off.

Waking Bokuto is a struggle, he’s groggy and disoriented but Keiji manages to push him towards the bathroom to clean his teeth. By the time he comes out to check on Atsumu and Hinata, both of them are fast asleep again, Atsumu forgetting his previous uncomfortable panic and rolling the both of them to lie lengthways across the sofa, Hinata still fast asleep atop Atsumu’s chest.

Keiji doesn’t lay a blanket over the top of them. Absolutely not.

* * *

As much as Keiji had accepted the guardianship of Hinata that was thrust upon him and Bokuto (more than willingly, despite the complaints he might have), nothing had prepared him for… this.

“I think I have a crush on Atsumu-san, and I don’t know what to do.”

Hinata sits seiza in front of him and Bokuto, eyes pleading. Bokuto does a double-take hearing the words that come out of his mouth, almost spitting out his water. Keiji just freezes, jaw agape.

“Please,” Hinata says again. “I tried asking some others for advice, but none of the advice they gave was good, so I figured that you two must be able to help. I mean, you got together somehow didn’t you?

Pure terror grips Keiji. His… ‘getting together’ with Bokuto had been years of pining and then growing distant, and then pining from a greater distance, and then growing closer again until they were practically dating and their feelings for each other were evident, and then Bokuto had asked him out while they stood in the rain, waiting for their bus home.

Ultimately, it had been Bokuto who had made the moves, the one who had been confident enough to change things for the better. If it had gone Keiji’s way, they’d both still be pining like idiots right now.

_I am not suited for this,_ Keiji decides. _I cannot give Hinata advice on acting on his crush and asking Atsumu out. I can’t do this._

He stands up abruptly. “Tea!”

Both Hinata and Bokuto tilt their heads. “Huh?”

“I’m going… to make tea.”

He beats a hasty retreat to the kitchen, setting about boiling and brewing the tea. He’s halfway through cutting a plate of fruit that the reality of the situation hits him. He left Bokuto alone there. He left Bokuto there to give Hinata relationship advice. He left _Bokuto_ alone to give relationship advice to _Hinata_. While he stands in the kitchen and brews tea and cuts plate after plate of fruit.

_I’m not cut out for parenthood_ , he muses, coring another apple. Bokuto likes apples, so they need plenty of them. _What sort of parent runs away, and leaves all the hard relationship advice to the other?_ But, he consoles himself, it’s not like he would have anything of worth to offer. Endless pining is exactly what they don’t want more of from Atsumu and Hinata.

The plate is full. The tea is perfectly brewed. The tray is set. Keiji sighs. He has no more excuses not to go back in there now. He can only hope that Bokuto had managed to stall Hinata for as long as possible until he returns.

Hefting the tray, he heads back to face his fate. There’s surprisingly little noise coming from behind the door to the living room, and it sets Keiji’s nerves ablaze. What is going on in there?

The sound of Bokuto’s voice filters through as he manages to get the door open, bumping it with his hip. Hinata is listening eager-eyed to everything Bokuto says, with a serious look to his face that he usually only applies to volleyball. Bokuto’s words are quiet, subdued from his usual volume, but he speaks with confidence.

“Sometimes you just have to go for it, y’know Hinata? There are things in life worth taking that big leap for, like a spike that you might just be able to get through the opponents block. You can’t hesitate and overthink it, you’ve got to move on instinct and go for it with confidence, and if it fails, you have to trust that you’ve got the rest of your team backing you up behind you.”

Keiji sets the tray down on the coffee table. Bokuto shoots him a bright-eyed smile.

“Y’know,” Bokuto continues. “Back when I was in high school, I had the biggest crush on Keiji, and I never realised it until years later when he was so close to slipping through my fingers. That’s when I decided that I wasn’t going to miss this chance, because I wanted to live without any regrets. Now… man, I can’t even imagine what life would be like without Keiji in it.”

All his worries were for nothing. It seems like he’d forgotten that Bokuto has always been the more feeling-type of the two of them, the one who would motivate and encourage and support his friends and family with all the excellent - if sometimes slightly unusual - advice he has to give.

(That said, Keiji would definitely be the one giving the birds and the bees talk, not that Hinata of all people needs to hear that.)

“Koutarou’s right,” Keiji speaks up, and Bokuto crunches loudly on a piece of apple. Hinata sips his tea. “I think love is about… trust. In order to get there you need to make that first leap of faith.”

Bokuto and Hinata let out matching _oooh_ s. “Excellent advice, as expected from Fukurodani’s captain,” Bokuto says sagely. “But hey, Hinata, just trust your gut, okay? I can sit here and give you all the advice I have to offer - which is a lot, I’m entirely responsible for Kuroo and Kenma finally getting together and no one can tell me otherwise - but you need to do what makes you most comfortable, and that’ll lead to the most happiness and satisfaction for you. Keiji and I will back you up the whole way.”

“Bokuto-san! Akaashi-san!” Hinata’s eyes are shining with tears. “Thank you so much!”

_They grow up so fast,_ Keiji thinks as Hinata flings himself into their arms and Bokuto bursts into tears himself. 

* * *

The air at practice is tense. You don’t even need to be a particularly observant person to notice it, not with the death glares Bokuto is sending Atsumu across the net.

“Alright,” Sakusa says when they’re on a break, taking long drinks from his water bottle. “What the fuck did Miya do this time?”

“For once, I have no idea,” Inunaki says, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “They were fine yesterday. Did Atsumu piss in Bokuto’s water bottle, or something? Tell him his spike was shit?”

It’s Meian who provides the answer. “I think the answer to our questions lies with Hinata.”

Everyone’s eyes swivel to the other side of the court. Hinata is practicing his receives with another member of the team, chatting away as he normally does, but he’s lacking that lustre, that shine he always carries with him. Everyone’s eyes swivel back to where Atsumu is setting the ball, anger sketched into his face. Neither of them are looking in each others direction.

“Thinking back, practice has been quite this morning without them fawning over each other.”

“Did they fight?”

Across the court, Atsumu sets another toss. “Bokuto-san, your turn!” he calls. Bokuto does not move from his spot, and the ball thuds to the ground, the sound reverberating throughout the hall.

This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel's back. “What the fuck is up with you today?” Atsumu snaps. “I don’t appreciate it when you ignore the tosses I’ve put so much effort into.”

“I told you already,” Bokuto says, tossing his head indignantly, arms crossed across his chest. “I’m not setting your tosses until you sort things out with Hinata.”

“That’s between me and Shou- Hinata. It’s none of your business.”

Bokuto sees white. 

He’s not an angry person. Despite his mood swings back in school, never once did he get properly angry. Some of the Fukurodani team had even speculated that it was impossible to get Bokuto _properly_ angry.

Well, it seems they were wrong. Everyone watches with bated breath, waiting for the moment that Bokuto blows up. 

But he doesn’t, instead he goes deathly calm and quiet. “You know, Atsumu,” he says, and without his usual cheerfulness it’s like someone else is speaking. “Hinata is like family to me. I like seeing him happy. You’re my friend, too, and I want to see you happy as well. I know you don’t care about everyone hating you, or maybe you do now, but I know that you care about Hinata. Even though you rejected him when he asked you out, I know you actually do care. Somehow.”

Atsumu’s face is pale, an expression of terror on it that’s normally only associated with Kita Shinsuke asking what he just did. 

Bokuto continues. “You like it when spikers hit your tosses, right?” There’s a deadly gleam in his eyes. “Like it when they dance to your tune? When you feel powerful controlling all those monster hitters? Well?”

Gulping, Atsumu answers. “Yes.”

“If you want to keep that feeling, then talk to Hinata. Otherwise say goodbye to ever having me - or Hinata, or Omi-san, judging by the foul look on his face he's directing at you - spike one of your tosses again.”

The coach intervenes then, desperately trying to mediate, but Bokuto’s done. His anger has all faded away. He slumps. _I need an Akaashi hug._ Getting angry at his friends is something Bokuto’s never done before, and he decides that he never wants to do it ever again. But he’ll put up with it this time, for Hinata and his happiness.

Clearly, it works, because Atsumu and Hinata disappear together at the end of practice, and next morning they’re back to being disgustingly into each other, except this time they can advertise it. Sakusa wears a mask all throughout practice. Bokuto celebrates Atsumu and Hinata getting together by spiking Atsumu’s best toss of the day right into Inunaki, almost breaking the libero’s arms off.

_It’s tough being a parent,_ he decides. _You have to do hard things sometimes, but seeing your family happy is worth it._

(And perhaps that family includes Atsumu now, too.)

* * *

A few weeks into Hinata and Atsumu finally getting their shit together, the latter starts making a vague appearance at dinner each week. Keiji almost shuts the door in Atsumu’s face that first night he opens it, and it’s only the pure sunshine smile of Hinata that prevents him from doing so.

Not much changes. Atsumu can’t cook for shit, so the cooking rota is still divided equally between the three of them. Bokuto and Hinata still regale entertaining stories about practice and matches and Hinata talks too much about Atsumu, except this time it’s accompanied with Atsumu’s reactions to either his slander or his praise.

He’s not… bad, Keiji eventually decides. He’s a close friend of Bokuto’s, and despite his abrasive nature he’s a good person and a good teammate. Even Sakusa grudgingly admits to Keiji one evening at Onigiri Miya that Atsumu’s good for Hinata. They bring out the good sides in each other, and so long as you can put up with the excessive PDA and sappiness, they’re fun to be around (in small doses). And they make each other happy, which is the most important thing.

Fully embracing their role as Hinata’s guardians and protectors, Bokuto and Keiji corner Atsumu one night at dinner while Hinata is in the bathroom.

Atsumu looks between the two of them, nervous. “Is this a shovel talk? Are you about to give me the shovel talk?”

“Would you rather the birds and the bees?” Keiji asks.

“Nope, shovel talk is fine with me!” His nervous expression softens, fading into the face that Keiji recognises so well now as his ‘I’m deeply in love with Hinata Shouyou’ face. “But honestly, you don’t need to give me the shovel talk. I know I messed up before, when Shouyou-kun confessed to me and I misunderstood, and then caused a whole load of issues. I know I hurt Shouyou-kun, and that’s exactly why I know I’m not going to hurt him anymore. I couldn’t. If anything, he’s the one who’ll hurt me, when he finally gets sick of what an asshole I can be.”

“He’s not going to get sick of you!” Bokuto insists, immediately dropping the threatening dad facade and reverting to his natural state. “Atsumu, listen. You and Hinata are good for each other, and he likes you just as much as you like him. I know we joke about you being an asshole, which you are, full honesty, but you’re a good guy too. You two are good together, and if Hinata ever hurt you, just know that we’d have your back too.”

“Bokuto-san…”

_Speak for yourself,_ Keiji thinks. 

“I’m serious,” Bokuto says, clapping Atsumu on the shoulder and bringing him into a tight hug. “I love you. You’re my friend. I’m glad you and Hinata are happy together. We support you guys.”

“Just don’t get it on in our house,” Keiji adds. “If I see you doing any inappropriate touching during movie nights I will get my revenge.”

“Noted,” Atsumu says. “Hey, were you guys seriously going to give me the shovel talk? What are you, Shouyou-kun’s parents?”

“Yes,” Bokuto says. 

Keiji adds: “We consider Hinata to be a close member of our family.”

“If he were not a fully grown legal adult, we would have adopted him as our son by now.” Bokuto’s voice is serious. 

He’s joking (mostly), but the sentiment rings true. So even when Hinata leaves his yoga mat right in the middle of the hallway, or eats messily, or talks too loud when Keiji’s on a work call, or makes out with his boyfriend in the middle of practice, disrupting Bokuto’s spikes, they can’t help but feel happy for him.

Maybe they let Hinata get away with too much, Keiji thinks darkly as he spots a suspicious stain on his favourite throw blanket that he _knows_ Atsumu and Hinata were ‘cuddling’ under at last week's dinner and movie evening. Perhaps Kuroo and Kenma were right, and kids aren’t all that.

(Bokuto still wants a dog, too, and Keiji doesn’t know how to tell him that being a parent to two grown adult men is hard enough work, let alone an animal.)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed this! i rlly love the dynamic hinata has with bokuaka and thought that given the opportunity they would totally take him under their wing and love and protect him! also established relationship domestic bokuaka is my SHIT
> 
> if u liked it pls let me know and leave a comment!! i love comments :')
> 
> twitter: catboyeijun


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